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Shortly before Christmas, I got a text from a friend:
"What's an angel?" she wrote. How do I explain this to a 3yo from an agnostic POV? I told him I had to get back to him!

In mixed-faith and non-faith families, the simplest questions can jam up our thinking. Even the most straightforward answers can cause massive confusion.

"According to the dictionary, honey, angels are spiritual beings believed to act as a messengers of God, conventionally represented in human form with wings, a halo and long robes."

Um, like, no.

At the same time, we kinda gotta say something.

That's why, beginning this week, I'll be running a new series, where you can find simple, straightforward and age-appropriate language to explain religious ideas in a non-religious way.

Miracles, sin, salvation, dharma — they'll all be covered in the coming months. Please feel free to suggest concepts to explain, or to share how you have gone about explaining these things.

In each segment, I'll start with the most basic, abbreviated answer — the one appropriate for my friend's three-year-old. Then I'll add some context. (How much explanation is appropriate depends on the age/maturity of each individual child.)

"What's An Angel?"

The Short Answer:

An angel is like a person with wings, kind of like a fairy.

The Long Answer:

Angels are a part of many religious legends and stories. They are said to live with God and do only "good" things. That's why people might use the word "angel" when talking about a person they think is very good. (Parents sometimes call their children "little angels.") Some stories say God has special angels, called "guardian angels," who watch over the people of Earth and help keep them safe. Some religious people believe human beings become angels when they die.

Some people think angels are real. Other people think angels are fun to think about and read about, but that — like fairies — they don't really exist.

My daughter, Maxine, is 8 years old and really getting the hang of logic these days. If A is true, then B must be true. If you believe A, you must believe B. If A doesn't exist... You get the drift.
Anyway, Maxine's little cousin Jack (4) is very into the movie Frozen right now, particularly the character of Elsa, the snow queen. Recently, when chatting about beliefs, he told his mom, "I believe in Elsa" — which is so cute it makes my heart hurt. But when I told Maxine about Jack's statement, she immediately went into critical mode.

"Jack can't believe in Elsa," she said.

If Jack believes in Elsa, she explained, he has to believe in Olaf (the snowman friend) and Sven (the talking reindeer). This was clearly illogical, and the whole thing bothered her. You could tell she wanted to call Jack up right that instant and tell him how wrong he was.

This is not to say that Maxine is free of her own irrational beliefs, of course; she has plenty of them, believe me. But she is, for the first time, beginning to make logical arguments of her own and experiencing a very strong desire to set people straight when they come to the "wrong" conclusions. (God help us all.)

The whole thing has made me realize that this is a great time and opportunity to talk with her a little about tolerance. After all, how kids respond or react when someone holds irrational or illogical beliefs is a huge indicator of their level of tolerance, is it not? How Maxine responds to her little cousin's announcement could easily indicate her ability to exercise restraint, compassion and kindness in the face of absurd testimony. And, let's face it, she will be hearing (and reading) a lot of that in her life.

We already know kids need to be encouraged to think critically about different beliefs, to weigh those beliefs against what they know to be true, and to figure out what makes sense to them. This is important stuff for kids.

But thinking critically about other's beliefs is very different from criticizing others' beliefs. We need to explain to our kids that people have lots of different reasons for believing the way they do and sometimes those reasons won't make any kind of sense. But everyone has a right to their own personal beliefs, and they don't deserve to be made fun of, or criticized, or talked into changing those beliefs. Unless their beliefs are hurting someone, people deserve to be left alone.

We all do.

If Maxine chooses not to believe in God, that's nobody's business but hers. If her cousin believes in Elsa, that's nobody's business but his.

In celebration of Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday, do yourself a favor and listen to the following four-minute clip fromThis American Life, Episode #188. The entire episode, which centers on children using "perfectly logical arguments and arriving and perfectly wrong conclusions," is titled Kid Logic. It originally aired in June 2001 and has been making its rounds ever since because it's just. that. good. If you haven't heard it, and hopefully you already have, be prepared. It might may you cry. It will definitely make you think.

(Among Kid Logic's other highlights is the hilarious and adorable story of a little girl who, in second grade, comes home from school announcing that she has finally discovered the true identity of the tooth fairy. Listen here.)

You know what my life is missing? A Muslim kid.
There's no doubt that if I had Muslim friends with a Muslim child, I would be telling my 8-year-old a lot more about Islam than I do — not just because I would want her understand her friends' beliefs, but because it would naturally just "come up" more often.

Having a living, breathing religious person in our midst really is the perfect invitation for religious literacy I've ever found. And vice versa! That's part of the reason I'm glad some of my friend's children know about my lack of religious beliefs; it gives those families an opening to talk about atheism and agnosticism in a compassionate way.

That Muslims so far have been given short shrift in my household is particularly disappointing given that Islam is one of the most widely misunderstood of the world's religions. So, starting today, which happens to be Muhammad's Birthday, I'm determined to find a few new ways to work Islam into our conversations. Anyone want to join me? If so, here are the basics:

Islam

Founded: 610

Deity: Allah (“The God” in Arabic)

Famous Dogma: There is only one true Allah, and this Allah neither begets nor is begotten. (This is different from Hinduism, which encourages the worship of many gods, and Christianity, which encourages the worship of Jesus as Allah’s "only begotten son." Muslims revere Muhammad, but they do not worship him.)

Methods of Worship: Prayer (required five times a day, using prayer mats that face a building called the Kaaba in the middle of Mecca), reciting/singing the Qur'an, almsgiving, and fasting during the month of Ramadan. Formal services occur at mosques every Friday at noon.

Symbol: Star and the crescent

Major Sects: Sunni and Shia

Sacred Texts: The Qur'an and the Hadith

Life-Cycle Celebrations: Naming ceremonies, marriages, pilgrimages to Mecca — which are called Hajj.

Traditional Views of Afterlife: Righteous believers — those who pray, donate to charity, read the Qur'an and believe in one true Allah — are said to go to Paradise, a garden-like place of pleasure. Hell is depicted as a fiery place where those who do not conform to the teachings of the Qur'an will be banished forever.

Clothing: The Qur'an encourages all Muslim men and women to dress modestly, but some Muslims have interpreted parts of the Qu'ran in a way that requires women to wear hijab (pronounced hee-JOB), clothing that covers the head and/or body. Most American Muslim women wear only head coverings as their hijab, while more devout Muslim women may be seen in face veils and abayas — long cloaks worn over their clothing. Only in very strict countries (such as Afghanistan) do women wear hijab in the form of full burkas, which cover their entire bodies, head to toe, including their eyes.

Major Narrative: Muḥammad was born in 570 CE in the Arabian city of Mecca. He was orphaned at age 6 and placed with family members — first his grandmother and then his uncle. He was a merchant and a shepherd and was known around Mecca as a man of high character. As an adult, Muhammad regularly took a few weeks off to meditate by himself in a nearby cave. During one visit, made when he was 40, Muhammad said he heard a voice speak to him. It was, he later learned, the angel Gabriel (yes, the same Gabriel from Christianity) acting as a sort of liaison to Allah and delivering messages intended just for him. Allah, Muhammad said, told him that there was only one true Allah, and that Muhammad should call himself a prophet and deliver messages about how to be a good Muslim — to be forgiving, charitable and empathetic to those less fortunate. Muhammad did as he was told, and was said to receive messages from God throughout the next two decades. Those messages eventually were compiled into the Qua'ran.

Interesting Fact: Depicting the prophet Muhammad is expressly forbidden in Islam, which is why Arabic calligraphy is such a popular art form in Islamic countries.

Important Holidays: Ramadan (a month of fasting celebrating Allah’s first contacted Muhammad), Eid ul-Fitr (a feast celebrating the end of Ramadan), Eid al-Adha (celebrates the willingness of Abraham to sacrifice his son for Allah), and Mawlid al-Nabi (Muhammad’s birthday.)

Recommended Reading: My First Ramadan by Karen Katz (ages 3-5); The Best Eid Ever by Asma Mobin-Uddin and Laura Jacobsen (5 and up); Night of the Moon: A Muslim Holiday Story by Hena Khan and Julie Paschkis (6 and up); Celebrating Ramadan by Diane Hoyt-Goldsmith (7 and up); , Muhammad by Demi (8 and up)

Recommended Viewing:Muhammad: The Last Prophet, an animated film about Muhammad’s life, is intended for small children. For slightly older children, there’s Koran by Heart, a touching HBO documentary that follows three 10-year-old Muslim children.

Recommended Eating: "Haram" refers to foods not permitted under Islamic law (alcohol and pork being the main prohibitions) "Halal" refers to foods that are permitted — including any meat which has been slaughtered according to Sharia law (for example, the animal must be treated well, must not suffer during death, and must face Mecca at the time of slaughter). Other good stuff: hummus, Baba ganoush, tabbouleh, pita bread, rice, kebabs, chicken shawarma...

•••

After writing this post, I realized that I do know a Muslim child. In a way, we all do. Malala Yousafzai, who is fighting for the rights of all children to receive an education in Afghanistan, could well be considered the new face of Islam. Non-Muslims may not agree with her religious beliefs, but her actions as a human being transcend all of that. What we hold in common is far more powerful than what what sets us apart. Let's make sure we let our children know that.

This weekend I was sitting in the living room with my daughter, listening to music on my iSomething-or-Other, when a song from the Broadway musical The Book of Mormon came on. The song was "Hello," the musical's perfectly executed opening number (and the one featured at the 2012 Tony Awards, below.)

Maxine was fascinated by the song. She loved all the doorbell-ringing, and the goofy voices, and the part when Elder Grant asks, "Are these your kids?" She must have replayed the song four or five times before moving on to something else. But, all the while, I knew she didn't really "get" any of it. She'd never seen a Mormon missionary. She'd never even heard of Mormons.

So I gave her a quick run-down. I told her Mormons were part of a religious group, and that Mormons are known for going door-to-door to talk about their religion.

"Oh!" Maxine said. "I thought everyone was coming to their house."

Nope, I said, the other way around. Mormons ring other people's doors to tell them about the Book of Mormon, which is kind of like their Bible. Sometimes, I told her, you'll see them in our neighborhood. You can tell they're Mormon because they usually wear white shirts with black ties.

We left it there; I've learned not to over-do it when it comes to religious literacy. But ever since then I've been thinking about how, if asked, I would frame the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Would I categorize it as Christian or non-Christian?

That question has been the source of great debate since shortly after the church was founded in the 1820s. Mitt Romney would tell you that LDS is most definitely Christian. My Presbyterian uncle would tell you the opposite.

Romney, who ran for president in 2012 and had a vested interest in being perceived as part of the majority, would surely emphasize that Mormons believe Jesus is the son of God and their savior, and that the only way to heaven is by following his example. (Pretty Christian-sounding, right?)

Yet LDS has adopted a whole manner of other beliefs that go far beyond what lies in Christian doctrine. The main one, of course, is that a guy from Vermont named Joseph Smith became a prophet of God who, with help from an angel, unearthed the ancient writings of other prophets, which all but instructed him to establish a new church. (Decidedly non-Christian.)

It doesn't matter to me personally whether Mormons are Christian or not. In the eyes of non-believers, most religions operate on the same planes of being anyway. Hindus could call themselves Zoroastrian, and I wouldn't have much of an opinion about it.

But I do want to be able to answer my kid's questions as accurately as I can, so... Are Mormons Christian? After some consideration, here's a simple answer:

Most religions evolve from other religions: Someone longs for something different, or learns something new, and starts spreading a different message than the one that came before. When enough people pay attention to that message, a religion is born. One could argue that Western religions — including Judaism, Christianity, Islam, and Mormonism — all grew out of the same basic principal: There is one God. When you remove all the special customs and "side-beliefs," one might say that Judaism is basically Christianity without the Jesus; Christianity is Islam without the Muhammad; and Mormonism is Christianity with the Joseph Smith.

Is Mormonism its own distinct religion? Definitely. Is it based in Christianity? Definitely. Done and done. Next house— er, question.

Confrontation: (n.) a face-to-face meeting; the clashing of forces or ideas; a situation in which people fight, oppose,or challenge each other in an angry way.

Like most people, I have sort of a love-hate relationship with confrontation. I’m drawn to it and repelled by it in almost equal measure.

On the one hand, confrontation is a necessary byproduct of honesty, integrity and self-worth. To be capable and willing to confront that which we find offensive, unacceptable or harmful is the mark of a strong character, is it not? Those who shrink from confrontation may well be considered “nice,” but are just as likely to be considered “weak.” Plus, sometimes, confrontation is a great release; by holding back our feelings, opinions or fears, we are quite likely to become victims of our own spinelessness. (That, or maddeningly passive-aggressive.)

On the other hand, confrontation can be — and often is — a wholly obnoxious thing to behold. In the wrong hands, confrontation becomes selfish, foolish, reckless and hurtful. I know more than a few people whose confrontational demeanors are motivated not by any real passion or concern, but by their own low self-esteem and desire for attention. Confrontational people are as likely to be labeled “strong,” as they are to be labeled “overbearing.” Indeed, without forethought or reflection, confrontation is merely wasted energy that damages relationships and accomplishes nothing.

I suppose it’s obvious why I’m writing about this. In the Land of Confrontation, Religion is a frequent visitor. (Or is it the other way around?) In the last few years, as I’ve blogged my way through any number of religious issues, I’ve had to evaluate and reevaluate what I am willing to confront, and when, and how. It’s made me think a lot about confrontation in general, too.

In my 40 years on the planet, I haven't always gotten it right. I’ve said things I wish I hadn’t. I’ve made big deals out of nothing. I’ve intimidated people, hurt their feelings unintentionally, come away feeling guilty and remorseful. Likewise, I’ve chosen not to confront things that I should have. I’ve opted for status quo in order to avoid discomfort. My own fear of hurting peoples’ feelings or of getting an angry reaction have kept me from saying things that might have “freed” me of pain, fear or frustration; from understanding others’ perspectives; from strengthening bonds with those I love; or from making myself a better, more honest person.

These days, though, when it comes to confrontation, I seek a middle path. I try to confront others with deliberation, consideration and kindness, with an eye on what can be gained and what can be lost. It's been my experience that aiming for the center gets me closer to becoming the person I want to be — and the person I want my daughter to be. After all, how we confront our differences with other people, religious or otherwise, says an awful lot about who we are.

But what does a middle path look like? Every confrontation has the potential for failure or success, so how do we know who and what's worth confronting? How do we measure the risks versus the rewards? When should we go big, and when should we just go home?

Running through the following series of questions can help you get some clarity:

1. How important is this issue?

Whether you're on the giving or receiving end, confrontations can be emotionally exhausting. Confronting people over every problem or concern will quickly turn you into a high-maintenance drama queen. That said, it's a mistake to believe that only "big issues" are worth confronting. Small issues often deserve our attention, too. If you find yourself thinking about a problem for an extended period, unable to "move on" in your mind, then it's probably an issue worth confronting. Will it go your way? Maybe, maybe not. But your feelings are important; treat them that way. Otherwise, you risk selling yourself, and your relationships, short.

2.How important is this person?

The closer you are to a person who has, say, offended or hurt you, the more likely it is that you’ll need to confront them head-on. It’s why we argue with our spouses and partners more than just about anyone else; those arguments may be painful, but they're usually worth it. That’s not necessarily the case when offensive comments or hurtful behavior come from those in your “outer circle" — distant relatives, occasional acquaintances, Internet friends. If people don’t matter to you in your day-to-day life, confronting them on much of anything will hold little long-term value. And it may send the message that they're more important to you than they really are.

3. Have I had time to reflect?

We all have triggers — subjects that take our stress levels from zero to 60 in under a second. When triggered, we are likely to react emotionally, rather than to respond rationally. If this is the case, take a giant step back. Breathe for a while. Your initial reaction may or may not be the right one. And, either way, giving yourself a day — hell, even an hour! — to recalibrate won't weaken your position and may very well strengthen it. With a cool head, you're likely be perceived as someone with a legitimate, thoughtful concern rather than dismissed as a hot head with anger-management issues.

4. What do I hope to accomplish?

Every confrontation should have a stated purpose. Maybe you need to know something, for instance, or you need something to change. Maybe you want to educate people, or be heard and understood. Maybe you need to admit something you did or will do or want to do. Whatever the reason for seeking out confrontation, try to do so appropriately and deliberately. If a confrontation holds the potential to hurt someone’s feelings, or make you sad, or damage your friendship, be doubly sure that your purpose is noble, necessary and worth the risk. That way, you'll have no regrets — even if things don't go your way.

Oh, and one more thing: Don't forget to accept confrontation graciously when it comes your way. When approached with kindness, confrontation is a gift. It signals your importance to the person doing the confronting, and your reaction will either encourage or discourage the person from sharing their feelings with you. Be a role model. That way, when the situation is reversed, you'll have laid the groundwork for a mature and compassionate meeting of the minds.

Last Christmas, it seemed like everyone in my family and my husband's family was talking about Duck Dynasty. We are all from the Midwest, which may be why the hunting, back-woods feel of the show held a certain charm. And there really were some funny parts. It seemed like mere mention of the show incited laughter from one corner or another.
This Christmas, the families are still talking about Duck Dynasty. But this time no one is laughing.

In case you've been in a coma for the last week, here's a brief recap: Phil Robertson, the patriarch of the millionaire family featured on the A&E show, caused a shitstorm when he made homophobic remarks publicly. In an interview with GQ Magazine, he said the following:

It seems like, to me, a vagina — as a man — would be more desirable than a man’s anus. That’s just me. I’m just thinking: There’s more there! She’s got more to offer. I mean, come on, dudes! You know what I’m saying? But hey, sin: It’s not logical, my man. It’s just not logical.

Later, he added:

Everything is blurred on what’s right and what’s wrong. Sin becomes fine. Start with homosexual behavior and just morph out from there. Bestiality, sleeping around with this woman and that woman and that woman and those men. Don’t be deceived. Neither the adulterers, the idolaters, the male prostitutes, the homosexual offenders, the greedy, the drunkards, the slanderers, the swindlers — they won’t inherit the kingdom of God. Don’t deceive yourself. It’s not right.

And if all that wasn't bad enough, a 2010 sermon conducted by Phil Robertson surfaced, in which he said:

Women with women, men with men, they committed indecent acts with one another, and they received in themselves the due penalty for their perversions. They're full of murder, envy, strife, hatred. They are insolent, arrogant, God-haters. They are heartless, they are faithless, they are senseless, they are ruthless. They invent ways of doing evil. That's what you have 235 years, roughly, after your forefathers founded the country. So what are you gonna do Pennsylvania? Just run with them? You're doing to die. Don't forget that.

Oh, boy.

The reaction to all this was about what you'd expect. A lot of people went apeshit. A&E television suspended Robertson from the show for an undisclosed period. Then a lot of other people went apeshit, accusing A&E of unfairly reprimanding the man for his religious beliefs.

How many times do we need to say it? Religion may be a reason for a person's bigotry — but it's not an excuse. There is no excuse for bigotry. Just as infanticide is not an acceptable behavior — even though God did it in the Bible — so it goes for bigotry. Hate and prejudice are not luxuries afforded by religion, or by anything else for that matter. You don't get to be a dick just because you belong to a certain church or because you're old, or because you're from Louisiana, or because you just don't know any better.

Now, let's be clear: Thoughts are not behavior. If Phil Robertson thinks bigoted things because he thinks God wants him to think bigoted things, that's none of our business. But when those thoughts become behaviors (and, yes, speech is a behavior), then it's his responsibility — and his employer's — to answer for that behavior.

Now, some might say, "Fine. Phil Robertson's comments weren't 'protected' by his religion. And, fine, his speech is behavior. But what about free speech? What's the point of the First Amendment if we're not going to let people express their thoughts in a public forum without fear of reprisal?"

Well, the point of the First Amendment is to ensure that no one in this country is censored or arrested or prosecuted or executed by the goverment of the United States for anything they say. Of course there are some exceptions — incendiary speech that implies or incites certain behavior, for example. But, without question, Phil Robertson's remarks are protected by the First Amendment. Government shouldn't take action, and it hasn't.

But if you believe that the First Amendment protects Robertson from being publicly chastised, or from losing a job on a TV network, you are cheapening the freedom of speech. You are insulting all those people who are or have been imprisoned for stating their beliefs openly. Free speech is one of our most important rights, as citizen of this country, and it's nothing less than terrifying to think about countries, such as North Korea, that offer no such freedoms.

No one is putting Robertson in jail for saying homosexuals are evil, just like no one put comedian Daniel Tosh in jail for making jokes about gang raping an audience member at one of his gigs, and just like no one put MSNBC's Martin Bashir in jail after he told his viewers that someone should urinate and defecate in Sarah Palin's mouth.

Our country gives us the right to say some truly terrible things without fear of reprisal.

But A&E is not the government.

If I'm a public figure who says on the radio that black people are the source of evil because my Bible tells me so, I might very well lose fans, or get nasty mail, or be fired from my job. Why? Because I'm a racist, and because, just as I have the right to state my beliefs, my fellow citizens have a right to speak out against my racism.

And what kind of a precedent would my employers be setting if they allowed that sort of hateful speech to go unchecked? It would be like saying, "Yes, our employee stated her racist views publicly, and we're fine with that. So, hey, all you other racists out there, have at it! Say all the hateful comments you want! And to hell with all those men, women and children who hear your remarks and go home feeling demoralized, frustrated, saddened and tormented at the end of the day.

Any responsible company isn't going to let that behavior go. The company is going to reprimand me, at the very least. "Hey, no more of that, okay?" And that's what A&E did. They suspended Phil Robertson. A good hard slap on the hand to say, "No, we don't tolerate hate."

How we react as a society to celebrities who behave badly matters. We don't have to hate the celebrities, of course. We can understand that they come from different backgrounds or cultures or religions. We can understand their bigotry is rooted in ignorance. We can even forgive them and move on. But we mustn't respect that behavior, or excuse it, or let it go.

The government doesn't punish bigotry. But that's precisely what makes it so important that we do.

A couple of weeks ago, I interviewed British philosopher and author Julian Baggini, who wrote a fantastic book for kids called Really, Really, Big Questions about God, Faith and Religion (2011, Kingfisher). While I found it at my public library, it's not one you're likely to run across in major book stores. While very well-received in Britain, the book has flown largely under the radar here in the U.S. And that's too bad for us — because it's a great starting point for kids ready to explore religious issues.
Each section of the book seeks to answer a question that could easily come from a child. The questions include: What is religion? Can we criticize religion? Should we fear God? Why do people worship? What if there is no God? Does religion cause wars? Do I have a soul? and What should I believe?

Great questions, right?

The answers are equally compelling, mostly because Baggini — himself an atheist — writes from a perspective that is, as he puts it, "basically, genuinely open-minded." The book, which I included in this years' holiday gift guide for secular families, differs from faith-based books of its ilk in two main ways. First, Baggini constantly urges children to make up their own minds about how to answer these questions and what to believe. And, second, he makes clear those who don't believe in any religious notions live perfectly happy, fulfilling lives.

It's that second point that makes this book so special — and so important. It's also the reason that the British have embraced it more than Americans; the British are far more secularized as a nation than we are.

Really, Really Big Questions about God, Faith and Religion is part of a series and, therefore, was not conceived by Baggini, who has no children himself. Still, the straightforward tone and broad knowledge he brings to the project is perfect for kids.

One of the more interesting aspects of our conversations centered on the notion of interfaith dialogue. Although the idea that people of varying religious backgrounds can come together and cooperate with each other is a lovely and refreshing and progressive in many ways, "interfaith" repeatedly fails atheists and agnostics. Sometimes there is an illusion that we secularists are involved in these dialogues, but we're not. Not really.

"Multi-faith isn’t really open-minded," Baggini says, "because the (central focus) is that we should be religious in some way.”

Make no mistake: Baggini's book is not exclusively for nonreligious kids. It's appropriate for all kids and all families. There is no bias against faith, just as there is no bias against non-faith. The book takes an approach of true compassion for all. And that, Baggini says, is because there is still so much mystery in the universe. Why paint a picture of "truth" when some truths cannot be known.

"Some of us are going to turn out to be wrong," he says, "and some of us are going to turn out to be right.”

In the meantime, let's be nice to each other.

While some parents stumble through those first conversations about religion, it's the basic questions — Who is God? What is religion? — that may require the most attention. Baggini theorizes that Culture Wars could be tamped down considerably if people would simply stop defining certain concepts so narrowly. The term religion, for example, means so many different things to different people, he says. "Part of the reason atheist-vs.-religious debates aren't very fruitful is because there is too narrow of a view about what religion is."

In making it clear that these terms are wishy-washy at best, then we leave plenty of ideas open to interpretation by the children who are exploring them for the first time.

"You’re too young to settle on the view that you’ll have when you're an adult," Baggini says, "but that's no reason not to start thinking about this."

In other news, many congratulations to the winner of Relax, It's Just God's final holiday giveaway. A subscriber named "John" — highly suspicious, I know — will be receiving a bag full of good stuff just in time for the winter solstice. Thanks for your support, John! And thanks, too, to everyone who participated in all the giveaways this month. Great things will be coming in the new year, so I do hope you'll stick around.

Wendy Thomas Russell

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🎉THIS SATURDAY!🎉 Maxine has been planning this march for the last three months (with zero help from me, by the way), and it’s going to be epic. Please stop by if you can. In addition to featuring some really powerful speeches (by children), a poster-making booth, and an art auction (whose funds will go directly to the Malala Fund, ACLU, Planned Parenthood and the Trevor Project (among others), Cubberley School’s Diversity & Inclusion Committee will be providing food & drinks! 😍 Oh, and Max will be selling copies of her new book, “How to Be a Feminist (For Little Girls & Boys)” (!!) Maxine, please never stop being the person you were born to be. You inspire me every day, child. ✊🏼

Pretty soon these four pictures will hang on the back wall of the State Theater in my hometown of Mound City, Missouri. They are my great-great grandfather (Henry), my great-grandfather (Charles), my grandfather (Bruce) and my father (James) — all presidents of the Exchange Bank, which Henry founded in 1895. Along with a donation made to the State Theater, which my dad loved so much (and is the reason Charlie & I first met 26 years ago!), the pictures are part of a memoriam to the bank, the men who led it and the community it served for 112 years. When the Great Depression hit, seven banks went under, but the Exchange Bank remained, somehow surviving a run on the bank that was unlike the famous scene from “It’s a Wonderful Life.” Dad loved to tell that story; what I would give to hear him tell it again. Happy Father’s Day to all dads, here and gone, who do (and did) so much for so many.